Showing posts with label redemption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label redemption. Show all posts

Friday, May 1, 2026

Tender Mercies


 

Palmer, Texas

farmhouse as it is today, just East of Waxahachie

 









































Director Bruce Beresford

Duvall winning a Best Actor Academy Award















TENDER MERCIES          A                                                                                                  USA  (92 mi)  1983  d: Bruce Beresford

You see, I don’t trust happiness.   I never did.  I never will.                                                         —Max Sledge (Robert Duvall)

With the recent death of actor Robert Duvall, who died of natural causes in February at the age of 95, it’s worth remembering the one role that won him an Academy Award for Best Actor, as it’s a throwback to gentler times, where his hugely understated presence infuses the film with a quiet simplicity in this organically realized redemption story about the price of fame, the devastating destruction of the bottle, and the will to recover from horrendous mistakes in life.  Completely unpretentious, never offering any easy resolutions, nothing is ever taken for granted, as each day matters in the road to recovery.  Not nearly as well known as it deserves to be, curiously turned down by David Lynch after he made ELEPHANT MAN (1980), thinking he wasn’t right for the film, it’s aptly named, written by Texas native Horton Foote, a Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright who won an Academy Award for the lyrical screenplay, having won the same award for his earlier adaptation of Harper Lee’s novel in To Kill a Mockingbird (1962), with Foote developing a reputation for evoking everyday American life in beautifully observed minimal stories that allow the actors to shine, as Gregory Peck also won an Academy Award for his role as Atticus Finch in Lee’s legendary novel, one of the most beloved roles in American cinema, and a film where Duvall makes his first screen presence as the reclusive and pathologically shy Boo Radley.  Foote and Duvall were good friends spanning five decades, with Duvall reading a letter honoring their friendship at Foote’s funeral in 2009 (Remembering Robert Duvall and Horton Foote).  Duvall is known for his larger-than-life presence in Francis Ford Coppola’s APOCALYPSE NOW (1978), uttering the infamous line, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning,” and will always be associated as the level-headed consigliere in Coppola’s THE GODFATHER (1972), where his favorite role, according to interviews, was playing an ex-Texas Ranger in Lonesome Dove — TV mini-series (1989), but it is here that he really carves out a distinctive place in his career, as this is a quieter, more reserved performance, defined by stifled emotions and the decency of the human spirit, listed at #14 of Premiere magazine’s 100 Greatest Movie Performances of All Time.  Described by film critic Pauline Kael as a “bare-bones ‘art’ movie,” intentionally avoiding big grandiose scenes, even the use of close-ups, instead filming from a respectful distance, this is a spare depiction of rural Southern life where not much ever happens, filled with long silences and the dialed-down poetry of spoken words, a reminder of simpler times where honesty prevails, having a neighborly respect for others, and above all, an effortless display of human kindness.  Very few films are able to achieve the authenticity established here, not just in the immensity of the empty landscapes, but in the personal connections, as we’ve lost this ability to connect on such an intensely personal level, where this becomes a beautiful portrait of the human spirit.

Robert Duvall stars as a washed-up country singer Mac Sledge, a star who’s fallen on hard times, almost always seen wearing a Stetson hat, an alcoholic estranged from his family who has hit rock bottom at the beginning of the film, seen as just a shadow through the window, where all we hear are the violent voices and sounds taking place behind closed doors in a remote country gas station motel on an isolated stretch of highway, with Mac eventually sleeping off a two day bender, finding himself completely broke and unable to pay for his lodging, so he asks motel owner Rosa Lee (Tess Harper in her first screen role), if he can work off his debt, which she kindly agrees to, but only with the stipulation that no alcohol is allowed while working.  Widowed at a young age, she lost her high school sweetheart husband during the Vietnam War, which looms in the background like a ghost, leaving her to raise her young son alone, a child who never knew his father.  Surprisingly, Mac ends up sticking around for months, working for his room and board, with a small salary thrown in, literally disappearing off the face of the earth, with no one knowing where he’d gone, where that anonymity seems to help him come to his senses, regain some semblance of stability, and recover from his own largely self-inflicted personal tragedies.  Like a safe port in a storm, they end up getting married (entirely offscreen, even the proposal), but he still struggles with his demons while haunted by his past, as we’re not even aware he was once a major star until well into the picture.  Country music is a thread that runs through this movie, something the studio executives failed to comprehend, eventually losing faith in the film, failing to understand what it was about and how the music connects to what was at that time a massive unidentified audience, providing few resources to promote it, but country star Willie Nelson was impressed by the authenticity of Duvall’s performance and offered to step in to help promote it.  Most importantly, co-producer Robert Duvall wrote some of the songs he sings in the film and does all his own singing, feeling a genuine connection to the character, which is why it works so well.  Authenticity is the key, something movie studios today still have a hard time understanding, producing very few films that fit that criteria.  The film helped define the American independent film movement of the 1980’s by initiating a trend of personal filmmaking that often looks beyond Hollywood conventions.  Emblematic of that is an early scene with Mac playing a song for Rosa Lee’s son Sonny (Allan Hubbard, who never made another film) in the kitchen, which is remarkably minimalistic, yet rooted in something we all universally understand, Tender Mercies Scene YouTube (2:07).   

The relatively barren locations are perhaps more reflective of West Texas, taking place on a little desolate stretch of flat land, yet the film was mostly shot in and around Waxahachie and Palmer in north central Texas by Australian cinematographer Russell Boyd, who has the distinction of shooting one of the most beautiful films ever made, Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975), while the film is directed by fellow Aussie Bruce Beresford, whose groundbreaking war drama BREAKER MORANT (1980) helped usher in an Australian New Wave, so it may come as a surprise to some that an Australian is able to so eloquently capture the poetic nuances of small-town America, yet that is what truly elevates this film over so many others.  Perhaps the only other film that gets the unique distinctiveness of the South right, particularly Texas, is Peter Bogdanovich’s The Last Picture Show (1971), which was adapted by Larry McMurtry from his own novel, though the Truman Capote autobiographical adaptation of David Perry’s A Christmas Memory - made for TV (1966) captures the subtle nuances of small-town life in rural Alabama.  Tess Harper was raised as rural and working class herself, coming from the Ozark Mountains in Arkansas, providing just the right touch of firmness, grace, and mercy, with an ever-observant eye, always watching over others.  The film has a stripped down, almost raw feel to the narrative, taking its time, only revealing what’s essential, as so much is expressed by what is left unsaid, where every scene feels valued, contributing to the overall build-up of the interior realms of the characters.  With its themes of sin and redemption, forgiveness, hope, and personal transformation through religious faith, some may recognize this as a religious movie, as it also speaks to the power of prayer, which is where the title comes from, with the kind-hearted frontier woman Rosa Lee, a devout Christian, revealing, “Each night when I say my prayers I thank God for his tender mercies,” which is simply a wonderful revelation, whether it has religious intent or not.  The church also figures prominently, as the family attends a Baptist church on a regular basis, accentuating the singing of the hymns and the idea of baptism (the visual expression of baptism by immersion is rare in films), where it eludes to the possibility of being reborn in the spirit of the Lord.  God does not protect us from the inevitable pains and sufferings of life, but he knowingly sends the “tender mercies” that somehow make life worth living, regardless of the circumstances.  Most people do not recognize this as a religious movie, but to those who see it that way, this is a profoundly powerful film, as religious a movie as you could ever find, as it speaks of God in an unusually secular way, yet is also fundamentally human, expressing the stirrings of love in an existential sense.

Initially released in only a handful of theaters, coinciding with the early days of MTV, which is diametrically opposite to what this represents, it was a box office dud until word of mouth spread, as critics who saw it provided enthusiastic reviews.  While it’s rare for movies to portray rural characters as complex human beings, the back story revolves around Mac’s embittered ex-wife, Dixie (Tony Award winning actress/singer Betty Buckley), who became famous singing Mac’s songs, Betty Buckley from "Tender Mercies" singing "Over You YouTube (3:59), the first country single to be nominated for an Oscar, with Wilford Brimley as her over-protective manager Harry, but their contentious divorce-filled allegations of alcohol-fueled violence left their daughter in limbo, with Dixie refusing to allow Mac to see or speak to her as she grew up.  Now that she’s reached the age of 18, Sue Ann (the wonderful Ellen Barkin sparkles in a very early role) can decide for herself, as their worlds intersect briefly when she pays him a visit, a girl he barely knows, where she remembers a song he sang to her at night, but she can’t quite remember it.  Taken by surprise, Mac doesn’t either, but the moment she leaves he’s seen alone at a window with his back to the camera quietly remembering the song in what may be the film’s most poignant moment, with the song carrying the central theme of the movie, “On the wings of a snow white dove, God sends his pure, sweet love,” Tender Mercies (1983) - “A Song You Used To Sing To Me ... YouTube (2:59).  With the encouragement of a band of local kids who idolize him, Mac makes a comeback, of sorts, balancing the sacred and the profane, singing with them in a honky tonk bar, Clip from "Tender Mercies (1983)" YouTube (3:22).  The film deals with a constant refrain of “champagne ladies” and “broken dreams,” the subjects of his old songs, but also paints a picture of how much it hurts to face reality, expressing the pain of mortality, where nothing can explain the sudden loss of life of a loved one, especially a child, as there is so much meaning packed into such a devastating loss, where there are simply no words that can fill the empty hole in one’s heart, but love may be the closest thing we have, in all its forms and permutations, with real emotion literally filling the screen in the haunting final moments when reality comes crashing into our lives in the most unexpected way, Scenes & End Credits from "Tender Mercies (1983)" YouTube (4:31).  The final musical ballad, the Craig Bickhardt song You Are What Love Means to Me YouTube (4:11), which takes the film to the end credits, feels surprisingly commercial and out of place, completely altering the tone of bare essentials and stripped-down authenticity, though the lyrics do fit the story.  Still, it may be the film’s only misfire.  Mac comes to embody a second chance in life, whose redemptive arc is largely a symbol of a possible resolution to the American chaos and disorder inherited from the 60’s and 70’s, yet despite the anguish and grief associated with death, where there’s no clear answer or road map, love prevails, in all its simplicity and grace, as in the end that’s all we really have to fill the void of meaninglessness. 

Thursday, January 1, 2026

2025 Top Ten List #4 Hamnet



 

























Director Chloé Zhao


actress Jessie Buckley



the director and cinematographer with the two leads




author Maggie O'Farrell

Shakespeare and wife Anne Hathaway


















 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HAMNET                   A-                                                                                                        USA  Great Britain  (125 mi)  2025  d: Chloé Zhao

We know very little about Shakespeare, but we know even less about Agnes.                             —Maggie O’Farrell, Hamnet

A Shakespearean film that places the beloved author off to the sidelines and instead focuses largely upon his wife Agnes, whose feminine consciousness and domestic existence has been diminished and disrespected throughout history, as the infamous fame of her husband largely overshadows her considerable influence, yet not much is known about her, a marginal figure of literary history suddenly thrust into the middle of the action, though in 2007 feminist academic Germaine Greer wrote a book entitled Shakespeare’s Wife, which serves as a breeding ground for the film’s premise.  Adapted from the 2020 historical fiction novel by Irish author Maggie O’Farrell, it tells the story of a young boy, a twin who grows up in Stratford, as his mother Agnes stays at home while his father is away in London, writing plays and becoming famous, yet this is the imagined story of William Shakespeare’s young son Hamnet, who died completely unexpectedly at the age of 11, most likely from the bubonic plague, a tragedy of epic proportions that may have led to the outpouring of emotions in the play Hamlet, written around 1600, literally bringing him back to life, and serving as his fitting epitaph.  His brief and precious life was more significant than literary historians suppose, as in those days, the names Hamnet and Hamlet were interchangeable, one and the same, adding a different twist to Shakespeare’s legacy.  According to literary critic Harold Bloom, Hamlet is the birth of modern consciousness, and the cornerstone of the human self, representing an unparalleled depth of human complexity, viewing Hamlet as the most significant work of Western literature, Bloom on Hamlet.pdf.  When we attend a performance of Hamlet, or read it for ourselves, it becomes clear that Hamlet is a character who transcends the play, with Shakespeare addressing what he might have hoped for his young son Hamnet, a child on the verge of manhood, imagining what he might have become, endowing him with the best virtues of both a hero and a dreamer, where he is viewed as both hard and soft, cruel and gentle, also brutal and angelic, yet the profound effect this character has on our lives in indisputable.  Turning his young life into a film, providing a fictional backstory, is a unique interpretation, and one that resonates with modern audiences, with stellar performances bringing intimacy to a captivating story that could easily have been a distant period drama, like so many we’ve seen before, but Zhao builds a naturalistic story supported by a tactile, sensory visualization reminiscent of Terrence Malick, where fog, wind, rain, and the rustling of the leaves all seem to resonate, while also spending fleeting moments with the characters, focusing on people society often overlooks, where empathy is a core aspect of all her films, allowing viewers to become familiar and internalize their human characteristics, which supersedes any developing plot points.  What makes this film special is its rhythmic form, as Zhao allows the film to breathe, yet at its core, this is a film about the emergence of art, and how greatness often emerges from devastating personal loss. 

Some of the notable adaptations of Shakespeare to the screen are Laurence Olivier’s Oscar-winning HAMLET (1948), Grigori Kozintsev’s HAMLET (1964), Kenneth Branagh’s HAMLET (1996), Orson Welles’ MACBETH (1948), Akira Kurosawa’s Macbethian adaptation, THRONE OF BLOOD (1957), along with Béla Tarr’s made-for-television MACBETH (1983), Justin Kurzel’s MACBETH (2015), and Joel Coen’s 2022 Top Ten List #5 The Tragedy of Macbeth (2021), Orson Welles’ OTHELLO (1951), Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s JULIUS CAESAR (1953), Laurence Olivier’s RICHARD III (1955), Robert Wise’s Oscar-winning adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story (1961), Franco Zeffirelli’s ROMEO AND JULIET (1968), Baz Luhrmann’s ROMEO + JULIET (1996), Orson Welles’ amalgamation of scenes from various Shakespeare plays Chimes at Midnight (Campanadas a Medianoche) (1966), Gus van Sant’s Henry IV Pt. I adaptation, My Own Private Idaho (1991), Franco Zeffirelli’s THE TAMING OF THE SHREW (1967), Peter Brook’s KING LEAR (1971), Grigori Kozintsev’s KING LEAR (1971), Akira Kurosawa’s King Lear adaptation, RAN (1985), Jean-Luc Godard’s KING LEAR (1987), Woody Allen’s A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy (1982), Julie Taymor’s A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM (2015), Paul Mazursky’s THE TEMPEST (1982), Kenneth Branagh’s HENRY V (1989) and MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993), Josh Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing (2012), Ian McKellen’s RICHARD III (1995), Trevor Nunn’s TWELFTH NIGHT (1996), Kenneth Branagh’s LOVE’S LABOURS LOST (2000) and AS YOU LIKE IT (2006), Michael Radford’s THE MERCHANT OF VENICE (2004), and Ralph Fiennes’ CORIOLANUS (2011), though the most famous may be John Madden’s amusing, Oscar-winning, behind-the-scenes reimagining of the genesis of Romeo and Juliet in SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE (1998).  Of all these versions, this is the only one to exclusively feature Agnes, with William (the name Shakespeare is only mentioned at the very end, and never mentioned in the book) playing more of a background role, basically flipping the switch on what we’re used to seeing, offering a female perspective, directed by an immigrant Chinese-American filmmaker, Chloé Zhao, a graduate of NYU’s prestigious Tisch School of the Arts, becoming the first woman of color to receive an Academy Award for Best Director with 2021 #5 Film of the Year Nomadland (2020).  Her earlier semi-Western films, Songs My Brothers Taught Me (2015) and 2018 Top Ten Film List #1 The Rider, were both shot on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota, journeys of self-discovery shot in the American West, delving into rarely explored strata of American society.  With this film, Zhao has created something that is wrenchingly sad, an elegiac remembrance of a lost child, which is easily one of the most difficult tragedies for anyone to experience, as all that hope and promise of a new life is cut short, never to materialize, but Shakespeare essentially memorializes this tragedy of grief and loss into one of the greatest works of art, inducing a cathartic theatrical experience, reminding us of the resilience of love and memory. 

Set in the shadow of the Protestant Reformation, adapted by Zhao in collaboration with Maggie O’Farrell, eloquently scored by the incomparable Max Richter, Of the undiscovered country (From The Original Motion Picture ... YouTube (5:22), the film opens with a written prologue from Shakespeare scholar Stephen Greenblatt that reveals, “Hamnet and Hamlet are in fact the same name, entirely interchangeable in Stratford records in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries.”  Opening in a deeply wooded, bucolic setting (shot in Gloucestershire’s Forest), Agnes (Jessie Buckley from Charlie Kaufman’s I'm Thinking of Ending Things in 2020) is an almost mythical figure, a farmer’s daughter more at home in the forest than with her family, where she has an abusive father, finding refuge in the silence and solitary world of nature, seen attracting a flying hawk to her gloved hand, developing a spiritual closeness to all the plants and animals, proficient in the herbal qualities of various plants for medicinal purposes, where she’s something of a local healer, but she’s equally capable of reading people’s hands, sensing things before they happen while discovering their undetected emotional truths.  As the heart of the movie, her fiery Oscar-worthy performance is raw, physical, and demanding, which can be showy at times, but excels in quiet restraint, choosing contemplation over drama, where much of what’s so convincing about her is expressed through close-ups without uttering a single word.  Lurking in the nearby vicinity, William (Paul Mescal) is a Latin tutor to a classroom of uninterested students, but he’s taken by what he sees out the window, which is the figure of Agnes, so he follows her to a nearby barn.  Following a brief kiss, she urges him to stay away, not wishing to add to the local gossip that considers her an outcast, the daughter of a forest witch (an outgrowth of paganism), yet she’s proud of her ability to concoct healing potions, which seems to define what she’s about, as she’s a complex woman, an unapologetically, unconventional spirit who intuitively sees the world differently than the rest of us, HAMNET - "When We Kiss" Official Clip YouTube (53 seconds).  Seeing that firsthand, the more introverted William is intrigued, following her to a nearby cave, where she convinces him to tell her a story.  He significantly chooses the heartbreaking legend of Orpheus and Eurydice, one of the great love stories from Greek mythology.  Having captured her attention, she grabs hold of his hand, foretelling that his future will be something great, while she sees herself dying with two children.  Enamored with each other, they passionately make love, resulting in her pregnancy.  Her parents angrily banish her from their household, forced to seek refuge in the attic of William’s family, who are less than enthused, but they hastily marry, with most of the film taking place in the Shakespeare home in rural Stratford-upon-Avon, as Agnes has her first child alone in the woods, which is where William and her supportive younger brother Bartholomew (Joe Alwyn) find her, discovering they are both doing well.   

Another holiday release that critics are raving about, though some may feel the big moments of grief, especially the screeching and the crying, are demonstrably supercharged, and while that may be true, there’s also a maturity here demonstrated in the cinematic restraint that separates what this film brings to the screen, a place where love, grief, and art all converge.  Elegantly and beautifully shot by Łukasz Żal, from Pawel Pawlikowski’s 2014 Top Ten List #2 Ida (2013) and Cold War (Zimna wojna) (2018), also Jonathan Glazer’s The Zone of Interest (2023), using mobile cameras, natural light, and a constant fusion between landscape, human presence, and time, this film takes its time getting started, as it’s a slow build where you get to know these characters and follow their journey, but once it kicks in, it packs an emotional wallop.  Settling into domestic life, their commitment never wavers, but it’s clear William is struggling balancing home life with his writing career, so he is urged to move to London where he can immerse himself in the theater community.  As a result, he is gone for prolonged periods of time working on his plays, causing a strain on their relationship, leaving Agnes to raise her family alone, which she does impeccably.  What’s interesting is the way Zhao weaves the DNA of his writing from their family experiences, which are woven into the film so naturally that they feel organic, like William jotting down lines from Romeo and Juliet following their first kiss.  Both William and Agnes come from abusive fathers, as he is seen standing up to his father, a glove maker who forcibly tries to prevent him from leaving a room of manual labor, calling him “useless,” striking him several times, but William strikes back, claiming he will never tolerate that abuse again.  Both seem to have channeled this kind of injurious patriarchal harm into creative outlets, where she has a mysterious connection to nature, while he is a penniless but aspiring writer with a destiny to become arguably the greatest writer in all of history.  With another birth on the way, this time William’s mother Mary (Emily Watson) restrains Agnes from venturing into the woods, giving birth to twins, a boy, Hamnet, followed by a girl Judith who is presumably born stillborn, but miraculously comes back to life.  The kids are very close, especially the twins, who often fool people, even their father, by dressing as each other, where among the more delightful early scenes is watching them enthusiastically portray the witches scene from Macbeth to the awe of their parents, a beautiful blend of the innocence of childhood with the dramatic power of what Shakespeare would become, which is emphasized further when Hamnet dreams of playing a swordfight scene in one of his father’s plays, HAMNET - "What Do You Wish To Do" Official Clip YouTube (1:13).  But William has to return to London to work on his new play, lovingly saying his warm goodbyes to Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe), HAMNET - "I Have To Go" Official Clip YouTube (1:00). 

Things take a tragic turn when Judith becomes afflicted by the plague, growing sick and feverish, with Hamnet providing comfort, even crawling into bed with her when it’s clear she may be lost, but by morning she has a miraculous recovery, only to discover Hamnet is dead, a fate that in the 16th century was tragically common, affecting about a third of all children in England before the age of ten.  The effect is immediate, as the parents are inconsolable with grief.  Agnes is filled with anger that William was not there for him when it happened, forcing her to bear that monumental loss alone, where her raw grief is not interpreted but feels immersive, literally swallowing her up whole, while also losing her ability to predict the future anymore, as something is broken between them.  Finding themselves lost, struggling to find purpose, each processes their grief differently, with William reciting Hamlet’s To be or not to be soliloquy on the banks of the Thames, with suicidal thoughts about throwing himself into the river.  Some may find this too melodramatic or overwrought, but the truth is losing a child is a distinct and awful kind of grief, which this film recognizes.  “What is given may be taken away at any time,” Mary says at one point, quietly ruminating on the deaths of her own daughters.  Mary provides Agnes with a flyer about William’s upcoming play in London entitled The Tragedy of Hamlet, which sends her into a furor about invoking his name, while William grows frustrated with his actors while rehearsing the play, trying to instill more passion into their performances.  Agnes and Bartholomew secretly attend the first performance of Hamlet at the massive open-air Globe Theatre in London, still outraged at the name of the play, yet these final few scenes are among the most dramatically powerful sequences in recent memory, as it’s all read on her face, angry and indignant at first, but as she slowly realizes it’s like an intimate love letter written exclusively for her, that anger turns to sheer amazement, likely seeing a play literally for the very first time.  Seeing her son onstage reborn into the character of Hamlet is beautifully portrayed by none other than the real-life older brother, Noah Jupe, cast to look like her late son, exactly the same age Hamnet would have been, had he lived, whose scintillating swordplay onstage is simply thrilling to see through the eyes of his mother.  William himself plays the ghost of Hamlet’s father, talking from beyond the grave to his son, speaking the final line of the novel, “Remember me,” evoking emotions so profoundly moving and emotionally devastating that audiences can’t help but react, especially reliving Hamlet’s tragic death onstage, with Agnes, standing right in front of the stage, reaching out to his hand (followed by others, miraculously shown in an overhead shot), briefly seeing the son she always imagined, smiling for the first time since his death, and finally seeing her husband in a new light, with transcendent music by Max Richter successfully moving across earthly realms to the “undiscovered country” of other side, Max Richter - On The Nature Of Daylight (Official Video) YouTube (6:36), which is exactly what this music was meant to convey.  It’s an astonishing moment and a brilliant piece of communal cinema that is provoking extreme emotional reactions, yet deserving all the accolades.  Group crying goes back to Homer and the Greeks, as Odysseus and Achilles wept openly with their men, viewing it as a fundamental aspect of the human experience.  This is a film where you can feel the pain manifest in the theater, literally transporting viewers into a different sentient space, becoming a meditative experience about love and the creative power of remembering, also the redemptive power of live theater.  By grounding one of literature’s greatest tragedies in domestic life, Zhao offers something rare, a Shakespeare story that feels deeply human, rooted in authenticity and emotional truth.